


magic and lights

by erasvita



Category: Those Who Went Missing
Genre: TWWM, autumn lights event, esk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erasvita/pseuds/erasvita
Summary: claws + wistful + imprint + barren + sweepingBase Score: 27 AP (Writing: 1376 words)+5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)+10 AP (Event Bonus)+20 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 2)+8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)Total AP per submission: 702850 Esfir wordcount: 206Base Score: 2 GP (Writing: 206 words)+4 GP (Event Bonus)Total GP per submission: 62053 Torryn wordcount: 1376Base Score: 13.5 GP (Writing: 1376 words)+4 GP (Event Bonus)+6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)Total GP per submission: 23.5





	1. harvest

The wisps are shining brighter than the stars overhead, glowing like little sentinels upon the path. Torryn follows them without hesitation, falling into the ritual as easily as breathing. And the wisps lead him further on.

The tall grasses brush against his legs as he walks through them, feeling the seed heads tapping **wistfully** against his sides. But soon enough he comes to a path that has been worn into the meadow, a trail of dirt that parts the grasses like a golden sea. And still the lights bobbing in a line just before him go on, waving at him with increasing insistence. Occasionally he thinks he can hear one or two of them laughing - but the wind always seems to pick up again at the same time, **sweeping** away their giggles and leaving him wondering whether he had even heard them at all.

And with each step he takes along that beaten path, the greater his curiosity grows. It urges him onward, until his steps come faster and faster, but even when he begins to run the wisps always seem the same distance away. The interest rises like a wave inside of him, threatening to break, sending more petals tumbling from his ribs. He doesn’t notice them falling. He doesn’t notice anything beyond the sea of golden grasses, and the wisps dancing always just before his snout, until -

The last wisp vanishes with a sigh and a giggle, and the world seems suddenly dark in its absence.

Torryn stops, swinging his head from side to side in confusion. The brightness of the wisps still burn brightly in his mind, as if they’ve left their **imprint** across his vision. As he skims his gaze over the **barren** meadow, looking for the creatures that have led him here, he realizes that he is alone. Before him is a fence, and beyond that the weeds grow tall and wild. The esk can see treetops aligned in perfect rows through the weeds, trembling just out of reach.

“Hello?”

His voice seems to echo back to him across the sea of wheat, the long stalks shivering in the wind.

“Is anybody there?”  
  
He turns his head as the grass suddenly shakes, expecting something - someone - to jump out at him. But the meadow falls still and silent again, save for the soft keening of the wind. Torryn turns slowly in a circle, feeling his tail drag through the dirt, leaving streaks like **claw** marks across the pathway. By the time he’s facing the fence again, something new catches his eye, something he was sure had not been there before.

A small seed, oval and golden, is placed on the path before him. One of its ends is narrowed to a point, facing away from him - as if pointing further down the pathway. Torryn’s gaze follows it, and only a few feet further is another seed, and beyond that is another. A trail of seeds leads towards the rundown fence.

Torryn looks around again, but sees only the grass. Its long stalks bend in the wind, as if waving him off. Seeing nowhere else to go, he turns back to the trail and begins to follow it again. The fence creaks as he climbs through it, a low moaning sounds that makes his skin crawl. More paper petals tumble to the ground around him.

Beyond the fence is an orchard, nearly overgrown now with weeds. The roots of the trees have sprung up from the ground, clawing their way in a tangle across the paths. The trail of seeds leads directly into their midst, and Torryn continues to follow after casting a hesitant look at the trees around him. They’ve all but lost their leaves now, their skeletal branches interlocking in the air over his head, blocking out the stars. But the trail of seeds continue on unperturbed, and Torryn sees no choice but to follow as they lead into another clearing, where the trees seem to form a circle. All around him the orchard continues, lines of trees emanating out from the heart he now stands in. Here the seeds are scattered, the trail of them too convoluted to make out.

A sudden rustle of movement from behind startles the esk, and Torryn turns around to confront it. But the path behind him is empty, a few stray, dried leaves tumbling around one another. He watches for a few seconds longer, to be sure nothing is about to jump out at him, before he turns back around.

Sudden light floods the clearing, and Torryn squints his eyes in confusion. The light is green and gold, like sunlight streaming through the treetops - and when the esk looks up, he’s surprised to see that the trees, once **barren** and dark, are now full of life like its the middle of spring. Night has become day in an instant, and beyond the lush green leaves he can see a pale blue sky beyond, and sunlight turns the glade a bright, dappled scene. Ripened fruit hangs from every branch, apples and pears and oranges and more.

When he looks back to the scattered seeds they are not simply gone, but replaced: where the seeds had once been sitting, waiting, now there is a sudden mass of harvest-ready fruits and vegetables in their stead, lush and bright with colors and life.

Torryn steps forward hesitantly, inspecting the sudden bounty. He sniffs at a watermelon, nudges it with the end of one antler, and jumps back to watch its reaction. But nothing changes, and he comes forward again slowly.

Sudden movement catches his attention, and he turns to see a small rabbit chewing in contentment on a strawberry leaf. A field mouse scurries over a pile of carrots, a family of blackbirds flitting overhead in the branches. The orchard is suddenly alive with movement, animals of all kinds creeping out into the light.

As he stands there in shock, a small esk crawls over a pile of fruit, blueberries and almonds piled high in her paws. Torryn comes slowly forward, peering down at the dark-faced esk. As if suddenly aware of his presence she tilts her head back to look back at him, golden eyes as warm as the sunlight.

“What is this?” he asks quietly. Nearby a group of squirrels are arguing, chasing one another away from their respective bounties. The other esk tilts her head to one side, as if puzzled.

“A harvest,” she says matter of factly, and then turns away and begins unstacking her own bounty onto a larger pile.

Torryn follows after her, watching her movements. “But where did it come from?” he asks. A small fox suddenly darts between his legs, startling him. He steps back in surprise as the furry creature bounds into the midst of a raspberry patch.

The smaller esk glances back at him. “Does it matter? It’s here now.” She turns away again, coaxing a rabbit that is not much smaller than herself forward with a carrot. “That’s it,” she said softly, her attention focused on the small animal. “I won’t hurt you…”  
  
Torryn steps past her, walking amongst the fruits and vegetables. He’s busy watching a group of sparrows chasing each other through the air when a sudden breath of hot air brushes against his shoulder, and he turns to see a fawn staring up at him. Its large, dark eyes stare curiously up at him, a pair of nubby antlers crowning its speckled head.

“Hello,” Torryn says cautiously. The fawn tilts his head, as if listening. A sudden bleating catches his attention, the fawn’s mother calling its child back to her. The fawn looks between its mother and the esk, and then makes a soft, almost pitiful sound to him, nodding its head strangely. It takes a step towards the other deer, but then stops and looks back at Torryn. It makes the sound again, and gestures with its head. Torryn takes a tentative step after it, which seems to please the fawn. It bleats happily, trotting back to its family. But then it stops again, waiting for him.

This time, he’s faster to follow after it, as the sunlight overhead warms the old orchard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> claws + wistful + imprint + barren + sweeping
> 
> **Base Score: 27 AP (Writing: 1376 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +20 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 2)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 70_
> 
> 2850 Esfir wordcount: 206  
>  **Base Score: 2 GP (Writing: 206 words)**  
>  +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 6_
> 
> 2053 Torryn wordcount: 1376  
>  **Base Score: 13.5 GP (Writing: 1376 words)**  
>  +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 23.5_


	2. mysterious game

For a while Torryn is content to share the company of the deer and the other animals in the orchard, as they bustle around the harvest. The other esk seems more content with the smaller animals than with him, so he leaves her be, and plays through the glade with the fawns. For a while it’s easy to forget that it was the wisps who brought him here, and the nagging wondering inside him that wouldn’t stop asking why. The small clearing is warm and lively, filled with sunlight and activity, and he forgets about the yearning from before.

Until the music begins. Then it all comes crashing down on him.

The deer do not care when he breaks away from their group, staring into the shadows of the orchard. One fawn - the one who had first invited him - gives one plaintiff bleat as the esk takes his first few steps. But as the light and noise of the harvest falls away the babe goes running back to the others, and Torryn is alone in the darkness with a song.

Outside of the clearing the world is exactly as he left it, cold and wintry and dark. When he tilts his antlered head back he can see a few stars, hiding just beyond the branches of the trees. In the darkness the forest is **grey** and lacking color, the sharp ends of the trees appearing to him like **wicked** claws waiting to reach down and enclose him in their fist.

Torryn shivers, despite himself, and looks back at the orchard path before him. The music is getting louder now, rising and falling in a haunting tone that seems to strike its tune against his very heartstrings. A part of it is yearning and oddly familiar, and the esk lets it be his **guide** as he follows after it. A distant part of him wonders if it’s the wisps again, leading him into the unknown; but he casts the musing aside. The music is getting louder, drowning out any further thoughts, reverberating through his very soul until his limbs ache with a desire to run.

He hurries along the path, ignoring the trees now with their **greyscale** branches that drum themselves against each other like something **wicked** , like if he pauses for too long beneath any of them he’ll quickly regret doing so. He hurries at the same pace the music sets for him, until each beat is a footstep, until he thinks the force of the lullaby is enough to tear him into pieces and more dry petals go tumbling from his back -

\- Until lights blink suddenly into existence before him, and he slides to a stop before something large and twisted.

The gate is draped in curtains of moss and creeping vines, distorting its shape. The blackened metal, where exposed, is wrought into strange shapes and symbols the esk does not recognize. Plants hang low over its opening, swaying gently from an unfelt breeze.

Torryn squints at the strange structure, hardly noticing the way the music fades away into nothingness. The fairy lights illuminating the gate seem to be dancing, much the same as the wisps had been. He is entranced as he watches them, never thinking to turn away or flinch as the lights come closer, surrounding him, pressing against his fur.

Their touch is as cold as **ice** , winter incarnate. A chill runs down his spine.

 _To continue any further,_ Torryn jerks at the sudden telepathic message, _you must win our game._

The light sits squarely before him, so he has to narrow his eyes and peer down his snout at them. “What game?”

The fairy light seems to shiver, though with relief or excitement, Torryn does not know. The lights begin to retreat back to the gate, pulsing.

_Find that which we have hidden, and proceed to the end._

By the time the lights reach the gate again their light has diminished, some entirely dark; they crown the structure sleepily, tucked into folds of moss and ivy. Torryn frowns, watching them.

Around him is a large circle of the orchard, ringed by wisps that seem to mark a border and shes light on the search area. Beyond them the world is strange and blurry, out of focus. When Torryn tries to walk to it, an invisible barrier prevents him from leaving the circle.

_Find that which we have hidden._

He shakes his head, inspecting the search area. There was no getting out of this without doing what the fairy lights had said, so far as he could tell. And so, he begins to comb the circle, pathway by pathway.

The esk isn’t sure how long he walks for, as he passes by the iron gate once, twice, three times; on the fourth time he finally stops, and glares up at the lights still lazily twinkling. “You could at least give me a hint?” he challenges.

But they don’t answer. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he goes back to searching.

This part of the orchard is wild and overgrown, weeds and piles of dead leaves providing innumerable nooks and crannies to search through. By the time the esk passes the gate a fifth time, he’s hardly searching, simply jogging through the underbrush. He doesn’t know what he’s searching for - whether it will be big or small, shiny or dark, something obvious or something conspicuous. He picks up a leaf from an apple tree, scrutinizing its dry, curled features for a moment. But then he shakes his head again and discards it.

“Hello?” he calls, not for the first time. “Anybody else out there?” As usual, there is no answer.

He’s all but given up looking by the time the ground itself moves underneath him. With a startled cry Torryn springs backwards, as the pile of leaves suddenly shakes and rises up. Twigs and dead leaves fall away like rain, until a small, dark form becomes apparent.

The esk squints up at him, its face strikingly pale against his dark fur and eyes. “Hey!” The voice was surprisingly high pitched, despite the obvious anger in it. “Watch where you’re going!”

“I’m sorry,” Torryn starts, taking a step closer. With his snout he brushed another leaf off the esk’s dark body. “I wasn’t expecting you to be under there.” The esk huffed, shrugging him off.

“Be more careful then,” he grumbled sourly. Before Torryn could think of a response, another voice interrupted them.

“Hey!” It called, only a moment before a pale esk came rushing forward. Fog poured out of the tears in her body, curling along the ground at her feet. Torryn thought he saw a ghostly fox slinking along beside her, but when he looked it was only the fog. “Found he did you!”

The second esk walked right up to him until they were nose to nose, staring at him intently. Torryn took a hesitant step back.

“I - yes? I think?”

The dark esk had given up pulling the leaves out of his fur. “And it took you both long enough,” he grumbled, so quietly Torryn had to strain to hear him. The pale esk seemed unperturbed by the other’s hostility.

“We go now, yes?” the pale esk was looking at him still, and with a start Torryn realized she was asking him. He shifted his gaze and realized the wisps that had created the circle around them all were glowing brighter now, closing their circle tightly around them. Again they seemed to be laughing, and dancing, as they darted between the three esk.  
  
One of them tapped against his nose, before spinning off and hurrying away. As Torryn turned to watch, the small lights began to cluster together at the base of the gate. Beyond the world was suddenly clear again, and just like before the wisps had created a trail. Their dancing lights led off into the darkness, where something like trees blocked out the sky completely.

“I think so,” he said slowly. The pale esk shook her head, starting towards the gate.  
  
“Come!” she called after them, as Torryn and the dark esk looked at one another. “I follow!” Her fog curled after her, obscuring the path beneath their feet. Again Torryn saw what he thought to be animals dancing along beside her, made of the same clouds pooling out of her body. But each time he looked the mist dissolved into unintelligible shapes, a confusion of twisting haze.  
  
With a shrug, the darker, smaller esk started after her, the fog parting around him like water. After only a moment of hesitation, so did Torryn. The mist clung to his own fur, until the paper petals that fell from between his ribs became waterlogged and soggy. Once again, the wisps became his **guide** into the **grey** unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> greyscale + icy + wicked + guide + gainsay
> 
> **Base Score: 29 AP (Writing: 1485 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 87_
> 
> Torryn wordcount: 1485  
>  **Base Score: 14.5 GP (Writing: 1485 words)**  
>  +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 29.5_
> 
> Renat and Shasta wordcount: 535  
>  **Base Score: 5 GP (Writing: 535 words)**  
>  +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 14_


	3. through the maze

The wisps’ light reflects off of the **fog** , turning the pathway an eerie, pale color. Torryn finds himself walking alongside the pale esk, casting a sideways glance at her torn, paper-thin sides. A thousand questions are burning in his mind, a thousand **wistful** similarities he finds between his own form and her’s, but for now he keeps them at bay.

“Shasta is me,” she tells him as they walk, following the barren pathway. Gone now are the weeds and exposed roots and towering fruit trees; all that remains is a dirt trail, and mist surrounding them. “And Renat is he,” she gestures over her shoulder at the darker esk, who walks with his head lowered behind them. He nods his head once, but is silent. Torryn glanced back at him curiously.

“I’m Torryn,” he tells her quietly.

Around them the mists begin to thicken, obscuring the trail beneath their feet. The esk glance at Shasta with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, but she seems unconcerned. The fog is coming from around them now, like a cloud settling over the **barren** landscape. The trail of wisps becomes fainter, swallowed whole by the clouds, until the trio of esk can only see the one bobbing pleasantly along in front of them, as if unaware of the sudden shift in the air. Torryn’s spine stiffens, and when he glances around he can see Renat sharing his tension. The dark esk peers warily into the fog, the fur along his back ruffled like a dog’s hackles.

Ahead of them the fog begins to part, a clear pathway forming that is lighted by the wisps. Something at the end is glowing, gold light illuminating the air surrounding it. Torryn doesn’t hesitate, stepping forward to inspect the object. But before he can a barrier, much like the one that had temporarily trapped him back within the orchard.He steps back as the fog begins to thicken once again, swirling around them in a confusing flurry.

When it lifts the object is gone - a tall hedge, much taller than he or Shasta, blocks his path.

When he swings his head from side to side he can see that the hedge continues in either direction, where it turns abruptly to form a sharp corner. Behind them is yet another hedge, forming a corridor. Torryn follows the new path with his eyes.

“More magic,” his voice is filled with awe and unease.

“Magic!” Shasta agrees, and she makes up for his lack of enthusiasm.

He looks to the pale esk, and an unspoken understanding passes between them. As before, there was only one option left to them - to follow. Together they walk alongside the hedges, a single wisp joining them to light their way. Renat follows slowly behind them, pausing every so often to inspect the hedges that corral them in.

The maze they’re in twists and turns, so that the esk often find themselves doubling back in the way they came. Before long their sense of direction has almost entirely disappeared, and they have to rely on each other to remember previous turns for the times they encounter a dead end. For the most part they walk quietly, but Torryn can’t help but ask questions to fill the silence.

“Where did you come from?” He’s watching Shasta as she walks, her paper thin skin tearing much like his own.

“Mountains,” she answers simply. The path splits again, and she pauses to inspect the two directions available to them. Without consulting the other esk, she steps to the left. Torryn and Renat follow without question. It had become their habit, taking turns each time the path divided. For the most part Renat simply followed, leaving it up to Torryn and Shasta to alternate leading.

“What were you? Before?”

Once, Torryn might have hesitated before asking these questions - but he had yet to find a question that offended the other abnormal, and her openness made him bold.

“Before?” she queried, turning her pale gaze back on him.

“Before you were an esk,” he clarified. The path divided again, and he continued to the left.

Shasta was quiet for a while, as if in contemplation. “There was a girl, remember I do. I had pages, night each she write in.” Torryn had to think to untwist her grammar, but he didn’t mind.

“A journal?” he asked, leaning towards her in interest. She glanced at him again.

“Journal,” she said the word like she was testing it out, tilting her head to consider it. “Think, yes. Journal was I,” she seemed excited by the revelation.

“So was I,” his voice was hardly above a whisper. “Sort of.” He wanted to ask her more, but she was moving faster now, trotting down the pathway.

“Is end that?” she nodded towards the path ahead of him, as it began to widen. In the distance he could see something gold again, shining brightly through the darkness. Shasta did not wait for his answer, breaking into a lope. Paper and petals and fog followed them both in a trail as Torryn, too, began to jog. The excitement is crashing like a wave inside of him again, urging him on and on, faster and faster -

A sharp ringing sound fills the air, a high pitched peal that seems to reverberate through his very body. It chimes, again and again, and Torryn seems to freeze in mid step, counting.

One, two, three.

A slight pause, and he tentatively takes another step forward.

Four, five.

He can see Renat shaking his head behind him, lowering his snout to his paws.

Six.

Shasta alone seems unaffected, reaching the small, glowing object now. The light is momentarily blocked by her body, limning the edges of each crack in her skin with gold.

Seven, eight, **nine**.

After the ninth toll the sound fades slowly away, and Torryn steps hesitantly forward just as Shasta cries out in excitement.

“Torryn! Renat!” She steps back, and Torryn can see the gold object leaping into the air above her. Feathers spread out on either side of it, wings that lift the small thing higher and higher. The small **finch** flies around her in excited circles, slender wings beating too quickly for Torryn to process.

“Alive it is!” Shasta crows, following after it with a bouncing stride. The finch turns, flying down a narrow pathway, and the pale abnormal follows without question.

“Wait-“ she doesn’t hear him, and Torryn and Renat exchange hurried glances before together rushing after her. Leaves are falling from the hedges around them now, the tall, leafy walls shuddering as a strong wind rocks through them. The two esk run faster, their companion a pale, distant thing ahead of them now as the maze begins to collapse all around.

They make it out just as the hedges tremble one last time and fall into one another. Torryn and Renat skid to a stop, nearly running into Shasta.

“Come back!” she says, and when Torryn looks up he can see the gold of the finch disappearing into the night.

“Shasta,” he says softly, leaning against her shoulder. “It’s gone.”  
  
Her eyes are still watching the dark night sky, even as the last of the light fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nine + wistful + barren + finch + fog
> 
> **Base Score: 24 AP (Writing: 1228 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
> +8 AP (Storyteller Bonus: 8 AP * 1)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 82_
> 
> **Base Score: 12 GP (Writing: 1228 words)**  
>  +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
> +6 GP (Storyteller Bonus: 6 GP * 1)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 27_


	4. haunted spaces

As Shasta continues to stare after the goldfinch, the wisps begin to return again, as if just now catching up to them. They surround the esk slowly, their pale light illuminating the three upturned faces. Renat watches them warily, creeping subconsciously closer to the other two esk.

With the last of the maze falling away into nothingness behind them, Torryn looks around to inspect the new clearing they’ve found themselves in. Overhead the stars are beginning to wink out of existence, one by one, and he glances up to see heavy clouds drifting across the sky, covering it like a dark blanket.

The wisps descend on them all like a group of pale, insistent fireflies, tugging and pushing at the esk. Torryn nudges Shasta until finally she lowers her gaze and turns, following him as he follows after the wisps, Renat trailing along behind them. The wind is still howling across the meadow, and the chill causes the esk to press closer against one another, bundling together as the last of the stars disappears. The night is exceptionally dark now, and the wisps alone provide enough light for the esk to see by.

They follow after them in silence, until another shadow seems to rise from the earth before them. The building stands alone in the meadow, overgrown weeds and vines crawling up its **dilapidated** walls.The esk stop for only a moment to inspect the cabin - before a flash of lightning brightens the sky for a moment, followed by a rumble of thunder. The wisps lead them closer to the building, and after a quick glance at the sky, the trio follow.

They make it inside just as the **rain** starts,lashing in a sudden fury against the cracked windows. After a moment, Torryn begins to explore his new surroundings.

The cabin is filled with **tawdry** decorations that have clearly seen better days. The furniture is ripped, the wood floors dusty, and pictures are hanging lopsidedly on the walls. Handfuls of dirt and spilled **seeds** are strewn across the floor beneath the broken windows, as if a strong wind has blown them in from the outside. Spider **webs** decorate the ceiling, but aside for the three esk now filling the space, it is empty.

The drumming of the rain against the roof fills the silence, and Torryn turns to see Shasta and Renat both watching the storm through the window. The wisps are grouped around them, settled in their fur and on the windowsill, starkly illuminating the contrast in the pale and dark esks.

“I suppose we’re meant to wait out the storm,” Torryn says quietly. Shasta nods simply.

Something warm brushes against his side, and Torryn turns to see a wisp pressed against his shoulder. Another one joins the first, then a third, traveling down the length of his spine and settling between his ribs. The flowers and paper scraps trapped there glow like a strange lantern in the wisp’s light.

He walks quietly over to the other two esk, the remaining wisps following him. And together the three watch the storm, as lightning traces patterns through the sky and the earth shakes from the force of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dilapidated + web + seeds + rain + tawdry
> 
> **Base Score: 10 AP (Writing: 531 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 55_
> 
> **Base Score: 5 GP (Writing: 531 words)**  
>  +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 9_


	5. carving lanterns

By the time the rain stops, the three esk are huddled snugly together on the windowsill, surrounded by the wisps. As the pattering of the rain slows, Renat lifts his head.

“The storm is slowing.”

The three continue to watch until the sky begins to clear, and the stars become visible once again in patches. Around them the wisps begin to glow, their faint light becoming brighter.

“Is it time to go?” Torryn asks, but whether he’s asking the wisps, the other esk, or even himself, he isn’t yet sure. The light nearest to him seems to bob excitedly, before it begins to drift away. One by one, the rest of the wisps follow in pursuit.

“I suppose that means yes.”

Together the esk untangle themselves from one another and leap down from the windowsill. Dust rises around their paws as they hit the ground, stirring around their feet as they begin to walk. Shasta’s sides begin to split again, the fog curling slowly out of her, twisting itself around the esk’s legs.

The wisps lead them through the old and abandoned cabin, the back door swinging open of its own accord to let them through. The back patio is aged and rotting, wood splintering beneath their paws. Beyond it is a field of grass and trees, overgrown with **weeds**. The esk descend the patio steps slowly, casting furtive glances into the darkness.

Eyes are staring back at them.

Torryn tenses, staring back. The eyes are gold and flickering, slanted like a cat’s. Their very presence is off putting, but the way they’re narrowed gives the esk the sense of something **wicked** , sending a shiver down his spine. He takes a tentative step closer and, when the eyes do not blink or otherwise react, another, and another, until he’s standing directly before them.

The eyes are carved into a pumpkin, and as he watches a split in the side of the fruit becomes a mouth and smiles up at him. Torryn shakes his head, believing himself to be imagining it - but when he turns back the mouth and the eyes are still there, glowing warmly by the light held within its hollowed center.

“Shasta, look-“ But when he turns he sees Shasta examining a small apple with similar carvings, a face smiling up at her with the same excitement with which she looks down at it. Her fog is pooling out of her now, coating the ground around her in a blanket of mist through which he can see dozens of glowing eyes staring at him. Renat, too, is gazing into the carved eyes of a lemon, ones that squint up at him in suspicion. As Torryn watches, the fog reaches him.

As he looks around he sees that the wisps are gone, and in there place are dozens of sets of eyes, all staring at him with various grins and patterns. Each of them are glowing with a flickering light that seems to come from within, carved into fruits and vegetables and the tree trunks themselves. “What is this?” he asks the pumpkin in front of him, but it does not answer; it only smiles up at him in silent defiance.

Torryn walks to the next crudely carved face, and while the last one had been smug and bold, this one’s smile is one of laughter. The **whimsical** face captivates him for a moment, watching the lights flicker from within its eyes.

“I **wish** I knew what was going on here,” he tells the face, but this one, too, is silent. So he moves on, and from the corner of one eye is aware of Renat and Shasta inspecting the smiling faces much the same as he.

The faces form a pathway, lining each side of it, one more guide for the esk to follow. Becoming accustomed to the night’s magic, Torryn and the others begin to follow it without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well + weed + wish + whimsical + wicked
> 
> **Base Score: 13 AP (Writing: 658 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 63_
> 
> **Base Score: 6.5 GP (Writing: 658 words)**  
>  +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 15.5_


	6. treats

The grinning faces became fewer and fewer as the esk traveled along the path set out for them, until they passed the final one at last. Overhead the stars were making themselves known again, and for the first time since the night had began, the three esk were alone with one another.

No wisps, no golden finches, no grinning jack o’ lanterns, no mazes or other strange, magical things. The esk found themselves upon a well-worn path, lined on one end by a wooden fence containing a meadow, and on the other end by a line of trees and **berry** bushes. Aside from an owl hooting in the distance and the gentle whisper of the wind, the night was quiet.

Torryn shook his antlered head, watching as petals and scraps of paper went falling in slow motion to the ground.   
  
“What that?”   
  
He turned to see Shasta staring intently at him, her bright eyes turned upwards towards his antlers. Torryn lowered his head slightly so she could inspect them.

“Antlers,” he said, as she leaned in closer. “Deer have them, too, but they look a little different on them…”  
  
She seemed content with his answer, and leaned back looking satisfied with herself. “Antlers,” she echoed. “They are pretty.” She nodded then, as if to emphasize her point.

Torryn leaned back as well, surprised. “Thank you.” _I think_.

The three esk continued slowly down the pathway, content to walk at their own pace now. Around them the berries were shining brightly in the starlight, coated as they were in a thin layer of **dew**. Shasta’s fog is still pouring out of her, leaving a silver trail along behind them, obscuring their paws beneath a thin cloud. But as Torryn looks ahead of them he can see more mist, detached from the abnormal walking beside him - it seems wrapped around a stone statue of some sort, and a faint light illuminates it.

Renat sees it at the same time he does. “What’s that?” the dark esk asks, squeezing his body in between Shasta’s and Torryn’s.   
  
“Magic?” Shasta queried, already moving closer. The other two followed quietly, each of them a little more wary after the night’s events.

Shasta’s mist added to the mist around the statue, until it thickened and pooled around their legs. It parted around them like water as they approached the smoothly carved stone.

The statue was a head taller than Torryn, the top of it nearly level with the tips of his antlers. Half covered in vines and moss, parts of it were chipping or faded - but the statue exuded a certain warmth, and a pale, golden aura surrounded it. The statue’s hands were filled with **red** morning glories, their delicate petals opened to the stars. A **trickle** of water ran into a bowl in its lap.

Shasta smelled the flowers tentatively. “They smell like home,” she said softly, sitting at the statue’s feet. Renat crept closer, squinting suspiciously. The statue loomed over the smaller esk, as he ran his snout along one forearm.

“Like a garden,” he concluded, circling the shrine.

Torryn tilted his head at the two, aware of a soft hum that seemed to be coming from the statue itself. The very air was vibrating with tension, like magic was weighing the world down.

A sudden blinding, fleeting light filled the small meadow, coming from the shrine. It was gone in an instant, but to Torryn it was as if the entire world had shifted, if only slightly.

Flowers of all kinds are suddenly blooming around the statue, warmth and sunlight seeming to shine directly over them. Birdsong fills the air, a light summer breeze tugging its fingers through the esk’s flowing tails. An ambience of peace exudes over them all, lulling them into a sleepy sort of trance.

Torryn crawls beside the other two esk, laying down in the bed of wildflowers.

“Here might not be so bad,” he whispered, and Renat and Shasta both hummed in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> berries + solstice + red + dew + trickle
> 
> **Base Score: 13 AP (Writing: 675 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Elemental: 5 AP * 1)  
> +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 63_
> 
> **Base Score: 6.5 GP (Writing: 675 words)**  
>  +5 GP (Elemental: 5 GP * 1)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 15.5_


	7. by the lantern light

Torryn and the others are still curled up at the statue’s feet when the lights return.

The dancing wisps seem to be laughing at some untold joke, as they creep across the meadow. When Torryn lifts his antlered head, flowers and paper scraps **rippling** all around him in the breeze, he sees a pale swath on the horizon. Only then does he realize that the night is over, and how long his adventure has been.   
  
He stirs as the lights come closer, pulsing with a thousand different colors. They dart back and forth playfully, chasing one another in circles, around his head and through his ribs, laughing all the while.

A bright wisp, brighter than the others, drifts close before his face. As he watches its colors change, from red to orange to yellow and finally a gold so pale, it is almost white. It bumps gently against his muzzle, and its touch is warm and soft.

As if on cue, the wisps begin to surround him, nudging him to his feet. Torryn obeys, turning his head curiously to see Shasta and Renat watching him. The wisps have left them alone, their attention solely on him. They push and they pull, a low hum filling the air.   
  
Torryn takes a tentative step forward, and they double their efforts, bouncing excitedly.

“I think I have to go now,” he says dreamily, but he is not afraid. The shrine has left him with a sense of peace, and the colors and brightness of both the sunrise and the wisps is comforting. He takes another step in their direction. “It was nice meeting you both.”  
  
Renat and Shasta lift their heads as one. “See you soon again, friend new?” the pale abnormal queried, her gaze intent. Torryn could feel a new warmth blossoming within him, as if an **ache** he had not known existed was finally lifting.

“Yes,” he said simply, and “I’ll see you soon.”

Renat whispers a final “Goodbye,” after him.

And then he’s turning, and it is not long before the shrine and the two esk are out of sight. All around him the **wheat** grass is turning golden again in the dawn light, rising nearly to his back so he walks through a sea of dry stalks. He follows the wisps without question, as his surroundings gradually become more familiar. As the sun begins to crest the distant horizon, he finds himself back within the meadow he started in, surrounded by the dancing lights.

“ **Home**.”

His voice sounds impossibly loud in the quiet of the clearing. A wisp dances closer, nestling momentarily into the fur of his neck. Torryn bows his head.

When he looks up again, the wisps are all humming as one, turning away from him. He follows them with his eyes, as they converge in the center of the meadow. The grass parts before them, revealing one last gift, a final trace of the night’s magic.

Torryn comes forward, his curiosity rising once again. Lanterns of various shapes and sizes are scattered throughout the meadow, lighting up with a flame that does not burn as he approaches. The piebald esk walks slowly among them, his pale eyes roving over them all. The humming sound is back, distant at first, but with each step he takes it grows louder, and louder.

Until he stops before one of the lanterns, a small, golden thing that seems woven together from the wheat grass in the clearing. In its center is a **shard** of glass, molded into the likeness of flower.

Torryn lowers his head, pressing his snout against the lantern. The glass inside it flashes brightly, suddenly alive with color that changes on a whim, mimicking the tones of the sunrise.

Lifting it gingerly from the ground, Torryn holds it close to study it. The humming has subdued now, a content, albeit expectant, sound that seems to vibrate through his very body. The esk inspects it for a moment, considering the offering.

Then he lifts it higher into the air, above his head, and as the breeze catches its sail and begins to pull it out of his grasp, he whispers over it:

“I wish -“

The wind steals away his words, as the lantern rises slowly into the sky. Torryn watches it go, until it is as small as a star all those worlds away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ache + wheat + ripple + shard + home
> 
> **Base Score: 14 AP (Writing: 734 words)**  
>  +5 AP (Personal Work Bonus)  
> +10 AP (Event Bonus)  
> +30 AP (Esk Interaction Bonus: 10 AP * 3)  
>  _Total AP per submission: 59_
> 
> Torryn:  
>  **Base Score: 7 GP (Writing: 734 words)**  
>  +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 11_
> 
> **Shasta & Renat:**  
> Base Score: 3.5 GP (Writing: 356 words)  
> +4 GP (Event Bonus)  
>  _Total GP per submission: 7.5_


End file.
